In Sunshine and in Shadow
by PonyXpressinc
Summary: One man from the past and a woman with an ugly hat appear on the scene leading Serenitys crew to the home of an old adversary. Rated for violence and language. I only own the ones you havent heard of and I dint get paid Reviews Welcome
1. Ugly Hat

This story was first published elsewhereand was my first ever fanfic. Now it has been beta read and over hauled.

Additions and changes have been made to my beta's suggestions and to fit the rating so any remaining mistakes are mine. I struggle with spelling and grammer so I've done my best and put my faith in spell check.

The whole story is nine chapters, some have not yet been beta read and overhauled and will apear later.

The whole story is rated M for violence and language.

I loved Westerns when I was a kid, this one owes a chunk of its plot to a favorite.

In Sunshine and in Shadow

It was Unification day.

As per usual Mal had insisted that they find an Alliance friendly bar, but the day wasn't going to the usual pattern. It was a grim bar on a grim dustbowl moon called St Catherine. It had a mostly male clientel, generally going from sober to drunk with the minimum fuss in between.

Maybe Inara's presence was exercising a restraining affect, or maybe Alliance supporters were feeling a little less fired up post Miranda, but it was quiet, no toasts, and no real aggressive drunks. There were drunk drunks, miserable drunks, mellow drunks and the odd happy drunk, all of them keeping out of Mal's way. In fact they were having a 'nice' time.

Jayne had looked around the bar and from a limited selection found himself some female company; she was hanging tipsily of his shoulder while he was playing pool.

Kaylee and Simon had stayed for one drink then disappeared who knows where.

River had stayed on the ship, muttering something like "too noisy." Mal thought that was strange because the bar had a tomb like quality. Maybe because none of the patrons looked like they were living much.

Inara was watching the world go by, seeming at her ease in her rickety bar chair. Her hair was loose, not a jewel or a clip to be seen, her dress flowing like shadowy river water to the floor, all shades of blue.

Even her presence didn't seem to be raising anyone's blood pressure.

Inara and Mal talked, conversation floating around going no where, but pleasantly, their ego's and tempers taking a day off.

Mal was almost enjoying himself. He could have made a fight happen but he preferred the first physically aggressive move to come from someone else and no one was playing, so he just let it go. The one thing niggling away at him and taking the edge of his pleasure was Zoë.

She'd been drinking. Zoë had a hard head though she wasn't really a drinker, however she had been sinking them steadily and by now, she should have been drunk, but she wasn't.

What she was, was so full of tension it was like a twanging wire. Inara was feeling it too; Mal being so tightly attuned to every nuance of Inara's body language he could see it like she had an aura, waves of frustrated sympathy hitting the brick wall that was Zoë these days.

Zoë was spoiling for a fight, anything from an argument to a killing. She hadn't tried to dissuade Mal one bit from the annual trip to an Alliance bar, and the weights and the punch bag had been taking some serious punishment.

Well the reason was obvious, one dead husband and the kind of widow who wouldn't weep or wail and who could beat the innards out of most men living was an explosive combination. The trouble was Mal didn't know what to do about it.

The bar door opened and Zoë's head shot round to inspect the new comers, checking, or Mal guessed, hoping for trouble.

Mal checked the door as well, though a little more subtley. A great grin spread across his face.

"Owain Thomas, where the hell you bin?"

Before Mal could get up, his hand and arm had been griped and pumped by the man at the head of the group of four new arrivals. Owain Thomas was not too tall but he was lean and whipcord fast. He had a reputation as a gun hand and no small talent at leading men. He and Mal had never served together but they'd come across each other shortly after Serenity Valley. They had worked a couple of jobs that had given Mal some of the cashy money to buy his ship.

They both worked in the never-world between legal and illegal commerce, Owain almost exclusively as a gun for hire and bodyguard. He was, in addition, aggressively proud of his Welsh heritage. He had a habit of talking Welsh when, in Mal's opinion, he wanted to be irritating.

While gripping onto Mal, Owain had taken stock of the occupants of the table, he spotted Jayne as part of the group because Jayne had stopped his game of pool and was standing watchful. His eyes widened slightly at Inara and then he spotted Zoë.

He hoicked Zoë out of her chair and gave her a bear hug. Zoë stood there rigid. Mal and Inara held their breath as Owain released Zoë and looked up into her face with a cheeky grin.

"Zoë girl, it's been too long, now where...?"

Mal butted in at high speed. "Owain you stop bothering my first mate and get your sorry ass up to the bar with me." He slapped Owain on the back, adding a little push to get him moving.

Owain was sharp enough to get the hint; once the drinks had arrived he propped himself up on the bar, making no move to go back to the table.

"Ok ffrind, heb os nac oni bai, you going to tell me what's wrong with Zoë? normally she hits me when I grab her, this time she stood there like a statue."

"Wash's dead."

"Cachu! Daria! How long?"

"Bout a month."

Owain took a drink, "It ain't like a friend dying in the war, you almost got used to that and we were all in the same boat." Owain rubbed a stubbly chin, "What the hell do I say?"

"Now I've just conjured a pretty thought, y'all could try hugging her again. If you let Zoe beat you up a mite I promise you the best medical care."

"I ain't got such a death wish." Replied Owain, grimly.

"It might be best if you don't say anything." Both men jumped as Inara drifted softly up behind them and spoke low. "I've tried, I live in perpetual fear of what River might say but she hasn't said anything yet and Kaylee's scared to. There are some people who ought to try but don't." Inara turned a brittle smile on Mal.

Mal had opened his mouth to protest when a distraction was caused by the opening of the bar door. As usual most of the patrons checked the new comer for trouble.

It was a woman, she looked un-remarkable and most eyes returned to their drinks. Mal and Owain's didn't, perhaps because they were the closest to the door and could see more clearly, perhaps because they were almost sober, or perhaps because they both had built in trouble sensors that were yelling at them to be alert. Owain in particular stiffened.

"I've seen her about, seems she's looking for something or someone." He muttered to Mal.

She wore a round hat with ornate studs round the rim, it was an ugly hat. As a result you couldn't see much of her face. Her clothes were well worn, serviceable but plain as if she had no desire to attract attention; this made her choice to wear the hat confusing.

All patrons were required to check their weapons at the door, but this woman didn't even have a holster.

They watched the hat turn slowly as the woman checked out the room. She must have seen what she wanted because she started to move with a purpose.

Owain's companions, three fairly un-prepossessing bravo's had taken a table a few steps from the one where Zoë was still sitting.

The hat and its wearer stopped in front of the table.

"Harry Bigelow?"

All three men looked up, one nodded.

The woman took off the hat; she had dark hair scraped back in a knot at her neck.

Zoë watched, her own trouble sensor shrieking.

The woman threw the hat on the table.

"D'ya remember that hat?"

Harry Bigelow picked it up puzzled; he turned it round in his hands, then something clicked in his face and he looked up at the woman, his expression somewhere between wariness and anger.

"Maybe I do girl, what's it to you?"

"The man who wore that hat raised me and my brother when our parents died. You shot him. You and two friends."

"I done shot a lot of people girl; the old fart who wore that hat was a cheat."

"No, he was good is all, he had no need to cheat. You and your friends were bad losers." The woman stepped more into the light. Mal could see some shape and expression to her face and it was set and grim.

"He was kind of an old man. Never carried a gun, was no threat to you or anyone else."

Bigelow snorted. "So what ya gonna do girl?"

"Took me close on eight months, but I caught up with your two buddies; 'spect you'll notice I'm still standing." She grinned with not a speck of humour.

"Now I've found you."

"You callin' me out?" Spluttered Harry.

The woman took the hat out of Harry's slack hands, set it with care on her head, nodded to Harry and walked outside.

There was something of an exodus to the yard outside the bar. The woman was standing quietly waiting.

Bigelow and his buddies stepped out together buckling on their guns.

"You two drop your weapons." It was unmistakably an order, barked out by Owain and it was obeyed.

"Mr Thomas, this girl's calling me out." whined Harry, appealing to a higher authority.

"An' I'm going to let that happen Bigelow. I'm a might interested to see how she is gonna do this, look you, she has no gun. Sides," he said, giving his man a thoughtful look. "It shouldn't have taken three of you to kill one old man."

Harry looked at the girl, she just stood, hands loosely at her sides.

"Being female ain't gonna hold me back girl. Nee TZAO ss-MA?"

She just stood.

"Damn." Harry looked around a moment, he was being honest when he said that her sex wouldn't hold his hand, but he was un-nerved, she was just standing there with no sign of a weapon."

"Aw shit." He swore and went for his gun.

Before he got his it half way clear of the holster there was a knife in his neck. Inara turned away a hand to her mouth. Harry clutched his throat, trying to hold his sorry life in. It took what seemed an eternity for him to lie still. No one made any move to help him.

Owain and Mal looked down dispassionately at the corpse.

"You think he's dead now?" Asked Owain.

Mal poked the body with a toe.

"I reckon, course I could get my ships Doctor to be sure."

Owain shot Mal a quizzical look, "You got a ships Doctor? Daria! You gone up in the world?"

The woman walked over as calm as ever and pulled the knife free with a gristly sound. There was movement from Harry's two buddies and Owain and Mal spotted them going for their guns.

The first bravo had his gun shot out of his hand by Zoë, which Mal found remarkable considering the amount of whiskey she'd sunk. But then, maybe she had aimed for his head. The fellow looked up to find himself covered by both Zoë and Mal. Owain had made no attempt to draw his weapon, just gave him a look. He and his friend backed down.

"You want to come to dinner Owain?" Said Mal out of the corner of his mouth.

"I'll be there ffrind, I'll just take my boy's inside and get them a drink and we'll all be happy again."

Once Owain had seen his men inside, Mal and Zoe relaxed. The bar owner, a man with a weary face and attitude and one of his staff appeared and carted away the corpse without fuss.

The woman watched the corpse go, calmly wiping off her knife with a cloth. She returned it to its sheath located inside her shirt and at the back of her collar.

"Y'all might need to get off this rock fairly quick like." Observed Mal.

"Ain't that the truth?" Remarked Zoë dryly.

The Woman shrugged, she looked kind of saggy, as if something that had been holding her up had gone. "Done what I set out to do, question is what now?"

"If you got the coin, I got a ship."

The Woman looked at him hard. Mal could feel her eyes drilling him from under the rim of her silly hat.

"I got some coin."

"Then we can maybe do a deal," Mal stuck out a hand "So, who in the gorram hell are you?"

Welsh Translations#

Ffrind- Friend

Heb os nac oni bai- No ifs or buts

Daria – Damn

Cachu – Bullshit

Chinese translations

Nee TZAO ss-MA?" – You want bullit?


	2. Jade Green Silk Dress

In Sunshine and in Shadow Part 2

"Dros fy nghrogi!" yelled Owain. "Sides, it won't be mine, it'll be your'n."

Owain Thomas was giving some kind of pep talk to his two remaining and extremely sullen gun hands.

Mal stood back and let his friend bring his men to order. It was kind of comforting to watch another man be argued at by his crew. The bar had cleared out after the fight, only the serious drinkers lurked in the corners.

Jayne appeared at his elbow, one of his fly buttons undone, his girl still hanging off his shoulder, a bottle hanging loosely from her hand.

"Did I miss a tussle? There's a whole lotta blood out front."

Mal took a look at the girl, her hair was a mess, her buttons were done up wrong and part of her skirt seemed to be tucked in her underwear. She had the misty look of the well plastered or the well…something else.

"Yep you missed it."

"Gorram it!" Jayne let go of his girl sharply, she slumped to the floor giggling inanely. "A fight could'a just finished the day off right. You could'a called me!"

"It was over an' done too quick, 'sides looks like you were busy…" Mal paused and frowned down at the helpless bundle on the floor, "Am I gonna have some angry father chasing us with a gun?"

Jayne looked down at the girl who was making some spirited but ineffective efforts to get up. She wasn't giggling anymore, in fact she was starting to look quite green.

"Ain't gonna happen, she's a biǎo zi, didn't gorram tell me 'till I got her outside, I could've saved a whole lot of coin on drinks."

Mal sighed, bent down and hauled the girl up by her armpits. She hung like meat on a hook. "Hey Barkeep, where can this one sleep it off?"

The bar owner displayed a weary lack of surprise.

"Has your fella done right and paid her proper?" Mal looked at Jayne.

"Sure I have," growled Jayne, offended, "she's gotta purse round her waist, damn thing got in the way."

The Barkeep came round and took the dead weight out of Mal's arms. "She's got a room here. I'll put her to bed, leave her a bucket, same as I do most nights."

Mal watched them go with his face all bleak, some things just got him down.

Jayne not being one to worry about the rights and wrongs of life as long as his itches where being scratched watched Owain. Both Bravo's where still mightily pissed off but the yelling had stopped and Jayne regretfully concluded that there would be no more fights today.

Mal tapped Owain on the shoulder, "Can I talk to you for a minute."

"Sure ffrind, what time do we eat?"

"There's the thing, that girl your men are so all fired up about is now a passenger on my ship as far as Whitefall. Question is can I stay here long enough for us to have dinner, or will there be the law or your fella's trying to storm my boat?"

"The heddlu, such as it is an' that ain't much, won't be interested. No right minded person's gonna complain. I'll see to that, same as I'll see to it that you get no personal trouble…. Did you say Whitefall?"

"That's where she wants to go and she's got the coin."

"Whitefall's where we're headed, got a job lined up." Owain snorted, "Y ffasiwn beth! Black's smaller than ya think… Tell the girl to watch her back and keep her head down, Whitefall's gonna get more than interesting pretty soon. I'll tell y'all about it at dinner, eight o'clock ok?"

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Some time earlier Mal had asked his new passenger her name.

"Alana Baedillion- Maguire."

Mal's eyebrows flew up, "Well that sure is some kinda mouthful."

"There's some that call me Alabama, but all in all I gotta preference for Al."

"Alabama? What's an Alabama?" Mal looked at Zoe all puzzled, Zoe just shrugged.

"It was a state in the United States of America, Earth that was." Mal and Zoe continued to look blank, Al sighed, "First three letters of Alana, first two letters of Baedillion, first two letters of Maguire. It was Johnny Diamond's idea of a joke."

Zoe's face showed she twigged, Mal got there after moving his lips fast. He shook his head. "Al it is then."

Al was now aboard Serenity, she'd walked back with Zoë stopping on the way to pick up her pack and do some shopping at the post office and general store. After eight months she was going home, she knew what her fare would be and how much coin that left her. For eight months she had spent barely enough to keep her alive, she had used her savings and sold almost everything that she had of value to catch the men that murdered Johnny Diamond.

She threw off the subdued hard wearing clothes that had carried her across a lot of planets and moons, rammed them in the garbage chute and slapped the evac. button. She felt giddy and kind of grey.

Next stop was the showers and the heady pleasure of washing in soap that didn't smell totally of rendered animal fat, of having actual shampoo in her hair.

She'd brought some new 'sensible' clothing in the General Store, but sensible was not what she was after tonight.

Right in the bottom of her pack was the only other set of clothes she had brought with her on her journey. It was what Johnny Diamond had called her party dress, brought for her on her eighteenth birthday with a whole month of his winnings. If she had had to she would have sold it, but she was glad she had this thing left, it spoke to her of better times when the ugly hat lying on her bunk sat on top of a decent and honourable man.

It was actually a little on the loose side, but not too bad. High to the throat with lots of tiny buttons down the back and a skirt that went right down to her ankles. Unlike many 'Chinese' dresses this had no embroidery, Johhny had spent the money on real high quality plain jade green silk and good classic tailoring plus a killer pair of matching green silk shoes. It was a damn fine dress.

"Ai-yah. Tyen-ah, zhou ma kou!" It was a damn fine dress with lots of tiny buttons at the back that she couldn't reach. She kicked the wall hard. "Ai you tong!"

There was a muffled knocking noise from her hatch door.

"Can I help you with anything?" It was a female voice, soft and warm, even through the door. Not one that Al could identify. She didn't answer, just yanked the hatch open and looked straight into the most beautiful face she had ever seen. Suddenly all her efforts to make herself fine seemed such a waste of time.

Kaylee was disposed to like the new passenger. Zoe had come into the galley where she and Simon where sharing a cup of coffee, (that being the least athletic and dirty of their activities that afternoon) and dumped a bag on the table.

"New passenger brought them. Old friend of the Captain's coming to dinner, fella by the name of Owain Thomas. Think you can do some Kaylee magic?"

Kaylee opened up the sack and cooed with joy. Dried meat, some dried and some fresh vegetables, herbs and spices and dumpling mix could be seen at the top. She dug down some more and found…

"A melon, Simon we got a melon! Oranges, apples too! I love our new passenger!"

Kaylee's workboots clattered on the deck as she ran to her bunk in search of her grandmother's cookbook.

"Who is our new passenger?" Simon asked Zoë bemused.

"Ain't rightly decided Doc, could be a stone cold killer, could be something entirely different. Spect' we'll be findin' out before long."

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

She was in a pretty room, in a pretty house on the less than pretty moon of Whitefall.

She remembered Patience walking her into this room for the first time, so proud at what she had achieved. It was an oasis of gentility.

Patience had showed her every hanging, every fitted cupboard, every piece of carving, every little part of the room with pride. Happy to have done something nice for her daughter in law. She remembers Patience talking in that gruff matter of fact way of hers.

"Marie, I din't have a notion what to do for ya'. So I got a spiffy decorator to design it and some fella's from town to set it up. I reckon it's as good a room as you'll see on any core world." Patience looked Marie straight in the face her hands on her hips. "I ain't one to say it much but I gotta a world of value for ya', this room's about the best I can do."

Marie had loved it, because she had loved Patience.

The room hadn't changed as such.

Marie sat in her pretty room with two black eyes, a broken finger and a cracked rib. _He_ was kind enough to bring the Doctor to her. The Doctor had given her some ointment for the bruises, splinted the finger and suggested that she rest to allow the cracked rib to heal. The Doctor, a woman she had known all her life and had thought was her friend was silently sympathetic but scared out of her mind.

So here she sat, a woman that had once looked good for her age. Here she was in her pretty room with the blue hangings, looking with longing at the gaps on her wall where her guns used to be.

Her hair was still neat and pretty, blonde and soft. She was still clean and well dressed because her pride wouldn't let her be anything else.

At first she had remained upright and breathing because _he _had taken her guns away and placed a constant watch on her. She was upright and breathing now because her belly was five months full of baby and not any hell she went through was more important than that.

_He_ saw her pregnancy as a lever, another way to keep her subdued. However he didn't care about the child so badly that he wouldn't beat her to get what he wanted right now, he just avoided her stomach, as a rule.

And now _he_ was back, talking to her from the shadows of the room, talking to her using lines that could've come out of some trashy melodrama. She would have, _could have_ laughed at the clichés four, maybe five months ago but now she was alone and sick; sick to her stomach with fear at the sight and sound of him.

"It's best that you answer me honestly. Your first husband and your mother in law are gone. You must look to the future and shed the shackles of the past. Tell me…" He walked into the light and looked down at her with the cold fire in his eyes. "Where can I find your son?"

She knew she was shaking, every muscle in her body screamed in agony from trying to stop, from keeping upright when she wanted to curl into a ball, from keeping her food down when it was pressing at her throat.

She looked him in the eye, she'd be damned if she didn't.

"I don't know."

He hit her again.

Welsh Translations

Dros fy nghrogi-Over my dead body

Heddlu-Police

Y ffasiwn beth!-Such a thing!

Chinese Translations (to the best of my knowledge)

Ai-yah. Tyen-ah – Merciless Hells

zhou ma -Damn

kou-Button

biao zi-Whore, Prostitute


	3. Never wear formal to a gunfight

I havent said it before so I'll say it now, big thanks to my beta, any random capitalisations, misspellings or gramatical stuff ups are all mine and have been added since she did her stuff.

In Sunshine and Shadow part 3

There were good smells coming from the galley and Mal and Jayne just had to go investigate. They found some kind of spicy meat dish with vegetables, a pile of dumplings fragrant with herbs, keeping warm and what looked remarkably like fruit salad in the refrigeration unit.

"Hot damn!" Jayne went for a bowl only to receive a slap over the knuckles from a wooden spoon wielded by Kaylee, clumps of dumpling mix in her hair and a smut of sauce on her nose.

"You just go polish Vera now, or even better change your shirt. This is a proper sit down meal and we're gonna eat it together." Snapped Kaylee, a touch sweaty and harassed.

"We gotta dress all spiffy just to eat?"

"You heard the lady." Mal gave a significant nod toward the crew quarters. Jayne stumped of grumbling meanly under his breath.

Mal gave Kaylee a thoughtful look, "On that subject darlin' you might wanna look in a mirror." Kaylee checked her reflection in a saucepan lid. With a squeal of horror she disappeared in the same direction as Jayne calling "Don't let anybody start on the food till we're all here!" over her shoulder.

Mal waited until the mechanic was out of sight then dunked his pinkie in the sauce.

"He, zhou ma he!" He automatically stuck his finger in his mouth to cool the burning. The happy look of a man tasting real food after living on too much reconstituted protein spread across his face.

"Malcolm Reynolds shame on you."

He jumped like a guilty child and with a shamefaced grin turned to face Inara. There had been a laugh in her voice, a tone that was becoming more and more common with her and that did him a world of good to hear.

It was no surprise that Inara, as ever, looked like heaven on legs. However the vengeful killer that Mal had met that afternoon was standing behind her and she was surprising.

Mal realised that he hadn't looked at her properly. She'd been covered in dirt and wearing hardwearing, dull clothes and a ridiculous hat. Now she shined.

She wasn't really pretty and definitely not beautiful but in that dress she caught the eye. Chestnut hair in a chignon with jade sticks holding it in place, unremarkable features other than a fine pair of green eyes, good skin enhanced by a little makeup and a tall wiry figure made quietly feminine by the cut of the dress. It was all very subtle and understated and confusing to the male mind. Would she welcome a compliment or take offence?

She was considering him, head on one side like a bird.

"This is my celebration, of sorts. Johnny Diamond brought me this dress."

"I remember you sayin'…he was the fella… I understand… I reckon." Mal took a deep breath. "You look very fine." He said gravely.

She gave him a small nod and Mal felt like he's passed some kind of test.

A buzz came over the intercom, it was Zoe.

"Owain just arrived Captain."

Mal pressed the button which allowed him to be heard all over the ship.

"Dinner is on the table people, if y'all plan eating this evening get yourselves to the Galley. There will not be leftovers; I repeat there will not be leftovers."

uuuuuuuuuu

Harry Bigelow's two pals Jeremiah Scott and Rueben Leech were having a wake. Left to their own devices they had gravitated back to the bar.

They'd had Bigelow's funeral, almost before he'd got cold. There had been enough in his pockets to pay for a gravedigger and a wooden cross, but not to pay a Shepard to say the right and proper words or to buy a coffin. Harry Bigelow had returned to the earth wrapped in a bed sheet that Jeremiah had stolen off a washing line.

The last of the coin in Harry's pockets had gone towards sending his personal effects back to his family. They were poor folks who would be grateful for the guns, boots and cheap pocket watch as things that could be used, worn or sold. There were also a few letters and pictures that went into the package. Jeremiah and Rueben had made up the postage out of their own pockets and now they were sullen.

They drank beer and spoke their bitter vengfull minds.

uuuuuuuuuuuuu

Dinner was going well. Real food made for a party atmosphere and Kaylee had broken out the hooch. The regular crew were laughing a lot, people were getting teased and tall tales were being told. Owain was right in the thick of things. He flirted with Kaylee which Simon took surprisingly well and shot admiring glances at Inara. Even Zoë was more like her old self.

Two people were a little aloof. River seemed off in a world of her own, she kept frowning as if there was a thought she couldn't quite get a hold of. Al smiled and laughed but as an outsider, not encouraging the sprightly talk or coming up with any tales of her own.

Now the last of the fruit salad had gone down and Mal had surreptitiously undone a button or two.

Not surreptitiously enough though, "Pant's too tight for you Captain?" inquired Kaylee, with a wicked grin. Mal threw a stray dumpling at her.

"I hate to bring the party down but we need to sort out our plans for the morning." Mal looked round the table to ensure he had his crews full attention.

"Zoe, I want you to take the Doctor and Kaylee into town to get whatever supplies were short of. First priority fuel and essentials for the smooth running of my ship, second priority stock up on food, third priority medical supplies." Mal threw a bag of coin over to Zoë.

"That's what we can spare, use it wisely."

"Whitefall is about two weeks out from here. Our passenger," Mal gave a nod to Al, "has improved our finances some but it'll be nice to take on some more paying guests, while you're in town put the word out and let's see what we can drum up. Jayne and I will stay with the ship, see who comes knocking."

"Now our good friend Owain has assured me that we will see no trouble as a result of Al's doings here but I want to be in the air before noonday so y'all get some sleep and show me your bright and eager faces in the morning."

There was a clatter of plates and eating implements onto the counter, people stretching and yawning. Jayne disappeared at speed to his bunk. Simon moved dreamily with an arm round Kaylee, her head on his shoulder. Inara and Al had their heads together talking quietly. They all drifted away, except River. She stood in the doorway, looked at Mal, that intent frown still on her face. She opened her mouth, closed it, made a small noise of frustration then disappeared out of sight in a whirl of skirts, her bare feet making no sound.

Owain pointed a lazy finger after her.

"Who did you say she was now?"

"That my friend is River Tam, the Doc's sister, pretty much our pilot now and a whole bundle of strange talents and… well she's just plain strange but as I said, talented. Mighty talented."

"Is she as pretty as I think she might be, when she ain't scowling that is."

"That she is; she is also barely eighteen, has an overprotective brother and I have a fatherly eye to her, so don't you go getting' any idea's, dong ma?" There was humour in Mal's voice but not a jot in his eyes.

"So… Owain Thomas," Mal tipped a hefty measure of hooch into Owain's mug, "what's this job that takes you to Whitefall?"

"Well now," Owain took a swig from his mug and then paused to let Kaylee's engine moonshine make its both painful and pleasurable way down, "there's something of a range war goin' on that I've bin asked to take a hand in."

"You surprise me, I thought Patience had gotten that rock all buttoned up."

"She did, but being dead these last five months she kinda let things go."

Mal sat up a bit straighter. "Patience dead! When did that happen, I thought the old buzzard was near 'nough immortal?"

"Well she weren't, new fella landed on Whitefall next to seven months ago, calls himself Samson. Man looks around him, gets himself some followers and next you know Patience and her son Louis are filling up holes in the dirt. I'm told this Samson fella got Louis' widow pretty much a prisoner."

"The only one left of Patience's blood is her Grandson," Owain paused for another sip, "an' he's hiding out somewhere with a few folks that won't bow to this Samson, mostly folks who ain't got families for him to threaten."

"Zhou ma! I had a lurkin' kindness for Patience, even though she dun' shot me or tried to every one time we met. She was twisty and crocked but just business like is all." Mal thought for a moment.

"Whose side are you shooting for?" he asked.

Owain pulled a wry face, "The side as can pay me. Mal you know I ain't no angel and I ain't got a moral bone in my body. Samson wants Patience's grandson dead at his feet and he's willing to pay big to get it."

Mal looked at Owain steady and expressionless.

"We all gotta eat Owain. Word to the wise, Patience got herself a Sheriff, a man to keep order when she moved into the big house out of town, that'd be bout a year ago. Man is something fast with a gun. Jacob Pepper, everyone calls him Chilli. I knew him back before he settled on Whitefall, was one of us."

"I've heard of him Mal, but whatever he was he ain't that now. Word is he's strung out on booze and drops." Owain stood up shrugging on his long black coat. "War's long over Mal, you know I threw my brown coat away 'long with my crucifix before we did our first job together."

"Uh-yeah," said Mal, looking away, "I'd forgotten."

Mal, being a good host chose to walk his guest off his ship, he'd just slapped the button to open the cargo bay door when River came hurtling into sight screaming like a banshee.

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

Strange thing Mal had noticed, sometimes in a fire fight everything gets real fast, other times everything slows down like syrup pouring out of a jar. This time it all… got… real… slow…

Instinct made him twist and bend, he saw the bullet that surely would have hit him square between the eyes pass over his face and hit Owain in the shoulder, throwing him up and back like he had slow motion springs in his boots. He landed on the deck plates with a long whoosh of expelled air, his coat flying and billowing around him.

A second bullet hit the pneumatics that controlled the cargo bay door, fluid pumped from the severed pipe, out into the night like a lazy heartbeat.

Things started to speed up again, River didn't stop running, in one graceful movement and without slowing down she scooped up one of Owain's guns and fired into the night. There was a yelp and a curse.

"Didn't hit him, stone chip nicked his face." River grinned at Mal her expression somewhere between feral and loopy as she went for cover.

Mal flattened himself against the wall and saw Zoë and Jayne almost slide down the cargo bay stairs, Zoë with her Mare's leg pistol, Jayne with Vera and one of his special multiple choice weapons belts.

"Yelled for them to come when I ran past." explained River

Jayne took up station behind Mal, Zoë hunkered down behind a crate that gave her enough cover to reach out and grab Owain by the collar and drag him out of the line of fire. He left a smudgy trail of blood.

There was more noise from above, Simon and Kaylee looking over the rail, Al still in the green dress but minus the shoes jumped over the rail, hung for a second and dropped onto a crate seemingly unhurt.

"Need a gun I guess." She shouted. Jayne threw her his smallest pistol. She caught it one handed, looked at it, looked at Jayne and said "Gee, thanks!"

Mal had a truly hysterical desire to laugh. "Where are they at?" he called to River.

River who was standing mirror image to Mal her eyes closed called, "They have cover, rocks on either side."

Simon scuttled to Owain's side, putting pressure on the wound. Owain wasn't dead; he was grunting and swearing in Welsh and Chinese with equal violence.

Al looked round then started to run back into the hold, straight at the Mule. She half jumped, half fell into the driving seat her skirts getting in the way. She fired up the mule and shot out of the cargo bay. At the last moment River joined her, stepping onto the mule as it passed, as though it was still as a rock.

Simon started up shouting "River NO!" A bullet tore past him grazing his chin; he fell back pressing his fingers to the wound, looking in surprise at the blood.

"SIMON!" shrieked Kaylee.

"Look for them to break cover people!" yelled Mal

The mule had shot out of the ship at full speed and was now banking hard. Al was driving; River now had both guns, one in each hand firing constantly. One man shot into sight and she cut him down without even looking at him. The other tried to run, cutting across the rear of the ship, so terrified of the girl riding the mule like a chariot that he ran straight into another line of fire.

He was illuminated briefly in the cargo bay lights, his face all staring eyes and panic.

He got five bullets from four different directions.

For a split second Mal could see nothing but River Tam, hair whipping and streaming, face serene, unearthly.

The Mule came to a bumpy halt several yards back from the cargo bay. In the lights they could see Al wiping frantically at the fine silk of her dress, pulling at the fabric, trying to get it away from her belly as a dark stain spread and spread. She was screaming.

"There's blood on my dress, there's blood on my dress! Oh God NO! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!"


End file.
